Invasion!

Ruru the Cat here.  So I thought the worst thing my people could do was to let a toddler, a baby, and this big, black throw rug with mean teeth in my house.  I thought that was bad enough, and my people couldn't possibly stoop lower.  Turns out I was wrong.  So very wrong.

I've gotten used to the puppy named Harmoni.  She's not that much bigger than me, really.  She's okay.  She'll snuggle me and let me snuggle her in return.

Turns out she's small by puppy standards.  My people have started to let in this BIG puppy regularly, like more than once a month.  Sometimes twice a week.  I mean BIG BIG white puppy that thinks cats are fun to play with.  She scared the pee out of Harmoni.  That part was funny. Don't tell her I said that.

How can they do this to me?  I'm sweet, right?  I'm cute.  I know I am.  My person tells me I am.  I know I'm a great snuggle toy.  I do my best to be a well behaved cat unless there's cheese around.  Then no promises.  But I just can't see what I did to deserve the horrors of a big, white monster in my house.  Not just a monster.  A CANINE monster.  Who chases us and barks at us and thinks it's all super fun.  She invades my tub.  She knocks over my water.  She steals Harmoni's food, but that's my job.  I'm such a martyr.  People don't know what we cats suffer.

Weird Thing

Ruru the Cat here.  A weird thing has appeared in my house.  I'm not even sure what it is.  I think we have two other weird things kind of like it.  It's fascinating, let me tell you. It's little and, well, yummy-looking.  Except for the spikes.  Not sure I want to eat the spikes. It sits under glass, which makes it both difficult to reach and all the more tantalizing. It moves, so I know it's alive.  It's even in my person's room, which should mean it's mine, right?

I like to sit on its cage and stare at it.  I'd be even happier to get my claws on it.  I want to take it out and play with it, but the people around here won't let me.  I guess it's because they don't want me eating it.  Silly humans.  Why bring a little yummy something in the house if it's not meant for my stomach?  I just don't get people at all.

Gone fishin'

Ruru the Cat here.  I have met the love of my life!  They're goldfish crackers!  I imagine a real goldfish would be better still.  But these things are a slice of paradise, I tell you.  They taste like cheese, and nothing (except bacon) is better than cheese.  But these little things are awesome.  They come in a BIG box.  All you have to do is reach into that fabulous box and fish yourself out a lovely slice of heaven.  They're salty and milky and just so good.  

There's one little drawback to those little bits of yumminess.  The people don't like you stealing them.  Can you believe that?  You'd think they'd be happy to share such goodness with their favorite cat in the whole world.  But usually, I no sooner reach my cute little paw into that sea of golden glory, and a human comes screaming at me to chase me away.  Really?  Even when I purred so cutely, they still don't want to let me take those from the box.  

But then I purred sweetly and gently and rubbed up to my person, and she grabbed me a handful.  My own handful of happiness and joy.  Can I tell you how much I love my person?  My person is wonderful.  So are crackers.  Goldfish ones.  You should try them.  

Home?

[Me, looking friendly and not vicious.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I've been feeling kind of bad for the newest member of our cat crowd.  She still doesn't seem very comfortable here.  I tease Cass or hiss at her sometimes, but she looks at me like I'm gonna eat her or something.  Really?  Do I look like a psycho?  I don't think I look particularly vicious.  She's even jumpier around the dogs.  It doesn't help that they snap at her or yip at her and stuff.  She's just not one of us, and I don't know what to do to help her feel more comfortable.  Toothless plays with her.  I let her eat her own food.  You'd think she'd chill out.  Anyway, best I can do is hand over this blog to her just for this week.  

                                 

CASS: I've been a loner all my life.  I don't remember my early life.  I don't remember my mother.  All I know is I fended for myself like a wild cat, fleeing from owls, raccoons, a coyote or two, hawks, larger cats, and scariest of all, that big, hard, unnatural strip of black where large boxes zip by and do their best to kill you.  I've gone days without food or water.  

One human was kind to me, an older one who lives across from where I am now.  He fed a lot of us and didn't call us by any kind of a name.  He'd give us food and pat us on the head.  He seemed like the nicest person in the world because he was kind to us.  One day, I was ready to have a litter of kittens.  He took me inside, where it was warm, and there was food. It was lovely.  I'd never met such paradise.  Then the kittens got bigger, and we were all outside again.  They went their way.  I stayed nearby, waiting for food and the occasional head pat.  He treated me the same as all the others. 

                                     [Cass, looking unsure of what to make of house, animals, or people.]

Then I ventured across the street, and there were more people delighted to pick me up and hold me, pet me, feed me, and water me.  I'd feel the warmth inside their house but also dangerous smells as well.  I found their house fascinating and terrifying all at once.  Then, one day, they took me inside.  And it was worse and better than anything I'd ever encountered.  Foreign cats hissed at me, attacked me, and dogs chased me around.  It seemed like they had a million mean, vicious monsters.  

Hey!  Watch it.  I loaned you this blog.  I can take it back.  

Well, you all seemed like monsters at the time.  Remember that any cats outside our little group that I met seemed to want to kill me.  And dogs have always been killers.  

                        [Dodger=not scary]

Ooooh!  Scary Dodger!  He'll lick you to death.  

It's my turn.  The people offered me fresh food and water every day.  They pet me and held me and made me feel safe.  But it also frustrated me that, at first, I was kept in a separate room from everyone else.  It made me feel safe but also trapped.  I made a run for the exit just once.  Then they pulled me back inside.  Soon after, they hauled me somewhere scary with even more cat and dog smells. I was knocked out, and when I came to, part of me was missing, and I had this big gash underneath that was all stitched up.  I hurt everywhere.  I have no idea what that was all about. 

You were "fixed."  Happened to all of us.  I don't know what's so broken about us cats that people have to fix us.  People are weird.   

                     [Cass facing off with Baby.  As usual.] 

But now, I've been allowed out of that tiny room.  I'm fed every day.  I still feel like I have to hide because that one cat named Baby has it in for me.  She wants me dead.  I can take her, I think.  But otherwise, it's not so bad here.  I think I'll let them take care of me a while.  

                              [My person being awesome]

Not so bad?  We're AWESOME.  Especially my person.  She's the best person in the world.  Except when she sticks her finger in my mouth or my head in hers.  People really are weird.  But we're fed every day.  Not enough, but I'd happily eat a whole bag of food every day if I could.  My dream is to be the fattest cat in the WORLD.  There's always someone around to pet us.  They give us water.  It's not always the warm bathtub water I like best, but it's really awesome here.  Except Baby.  But nobody likes Baby.  Don't tell her I told you that.  She'd probably eat me.